Short Term Wins

Clearly business school ate my life. The end of my first semester was a scramble to get everything done, with a nice healthy dose of misplaced self doubt. I did make things, I swear, but nothing all that spectacular, nothing worth putting down the accounting and fundraising projects to write about.

My creative mojo is starting to return however. School prevented me from engaging in another Christmas cookie extravaganza, and the disappointment about that seems to have jump started me. But there is an obstacle: the unfinished objects. There are bins in my room of yarn and knitting projects that were started and abandoned. Several are at least three years old, dating to my time in New Jersey.

And then there is the sweater. It looms. It sulks. It nags like a mom who doesn't like your boyfriend. I started the damn thing well over a year ago. And while I lived in New Orleans, I had the excuse of it being too hot to work with thick, shed-prone wool. Not so in Boston, and the truth is, I have made progress. The sleeves are almost done. But it lags. I knit and knit, and yet feel no closer to the finish line.

What I need is a short term win. The concept came up in my organizational behavior class last semester. The basic idea (as I remember it, which is to say that I could be completely wrong, but I don't care) is that early success in an endeavor keeps people energized to continue to work towards their long term goals. There needs to be a small, tangible reward at the beginning to serve as motivation, and as reinforcement. It seemed incredibly intuitive to me, and I'd figured out a version of the sentiment when I was teaching knitting during my time at Down Cellar.

Learning to knit is definitely a long term project. For many new knitters, it can take a few projects to really get the hang of it. In my personal experience, the first object or two that you make will be terrible. That's just the nature of learning something new. At the time, I figured that it was best for beginners to make things that were cheap and quick, to bolster their confidence. The Yarn Harlot said it first, as she believes that the ideal first project is a hat, rather than the traditional scarf, precisely because they don't take long to make, and the joy of finishing something can spur you to start another project.

 Her suggestion has stuck with me after all these years. I find myself stuck on the Icelandic sweater. My confidence and desire to work on it is lagging. What I need is a booster. A reminder that I am a proficient former professional knitter. No sweater will hold me down, dammit! So I took the Yarn Harlot's advice, and knit a hat. It took three days, and is made from the abandoned roller derby helmet panty I started for Running of the Bulls, back in July. I will make a pair of fingerless gloves to go with it, and then redouble my efforts on the sweater.

The Sweater Curse

 All female knitters are told early in their learning process that they should never, ever, knit their boyfriend a sweater. Because if a female knitter were to make that mistake, said boyfriend would break up with her.

There are a multitude of theories regarding this phenomenon. All assume that the man in question does not like knitting. Or commitment. The most common, contemporary theory, argues that a handknit sweater is a symbol of love and devotion, given that it takes quite a while to make such an item. This potent symbol of regard and affection thus scares off the fickle man, who apparently wants a woman who's not that in to him. He never wears it, and it languishes in the closet as the woman stews over his ingratitude. He dumps her for her clingyness and moves on to a hipper girl.

Poppycock. Balderdash, I say! Why do we give men so little credit? Male knitters aren't told anything like this; there's no reverse sweater curse where your girlfriend leaves you crying over a pile of wool. Moreover, while obviously there are men who are afraid of lasting ties, there are just as many who would love to be with someone who loves them enough to wrangle with the wool.

No, I think there's more going on with the sweater curse phenomenon, and I have my own theory, developed during my year working in the yarn store. One of the most common customer complaints was that the recipients of these beautiful, lovingly crafted pieces, were completely ungrateful. I heard countless stories of daughters and daughters-in-law holding up the delicate white baby sweater and saying, "Oh, that's nice." Or the teen son looking at the new sweater his mother made with a sneer. Such an item could never be cool! What many of these knitters failed to account for was the personal taste of the recipient. Just as you don't buy a vegan a box of dry aged beef, you don't knit a lacy pink sweater for a baby girl whose mom is into death metal. In short, know your audience.

The fact of the matter is this: for many knitters, the effort that goes into a sweater is immense. You stretch your boundaries, try something new. You make mistakes and have to rip back. There's drama and personal growth! But no matter how much love you put in this sweater, it will never mean as much to the recipient as it means to you. If you are not prepared to accept that fact, then you should only knit for yourself.

He bought the yarn himself in Iceland.

However, if you are willing to forgo the surprise element, and knit something that you personally may not like, there is a way to knit successfully for others. The solution to this problem is to ask your intended recipient, no matter how close the relation, if they would like you to make something. And you must commit to not being offended if your intended recipient says no. Then, you make the recipient pick the yarn (or at least colors) and the pattern. The object becomes a collaboration, with a greater chance for success.

All of this to explain that I'm knitting the Gentleman in Question a sweater.

New Hampshire Socks

I recently returned from a two week jaunt to visit the Gentleman in Question. It was an excellent time, including a weekend trip to Maine for whitewater rafting to celebrate our one year anniversary! That trip will get its own post in due time (waiting for the waterproof cheapo cameras to get developed). Today, I want to talk to you about socks.

This sock is made from Socks That Rock, in the color "Deck the Halls." I bought it at Webs, in Springfield, MA, while on my summer roadtrip. It languished in my ever growing and slightly embarrassing stash, and I threw it in my suitcase on a whim.

One of the less exciting parts of visiting the Gentleman in Question is that his job has a habit of eating souls, so I had the days to myself. I filled my days with job apps, Doctor Who, visiting grad schools, and knitting this sock. I decided that the multi color nature of the yarn required a more interesting sock, so I went with Outside In, a slightly unusual construction. In general, variegated yarns look more interesting on the purl side, otherwise known as the wrong side. The visual interest of the bumps breaks up any unwanted pooling or stripes.

I like this sock quite a bit. I made the medium size and it's a touch too big, but the small would be way too tight. And since I don't suffer from second sock syndrome, the partner to this one is on its way.

I have not died.

You may be wondering where I've been. Or maybe not, my posting here has been pretty…irregular. The truth is that I haven't written because I haven't really made anything in the past month. Which isn't to say that I didn't do anything. The first, and perhaps most interesting thing I've done recently is that I went on a short roadtrip! But I didn't take my camera, so no photos for you!

My college roommate needed to drive from Boston to San Antonio, and definitely didn't want to do it herself. Her husband moved there in January for a job, and she was finally able to sell their place and join him. So I tagged along as entertainment. I could only take a week off of work, so my end point was Kentucky. She drives the cutest mini cooper!  And while I can drive a manual transmission, I'm certainly not good enough at it to even suggest driving her car. So my job was to navigate.

I arrived in Boston last Thursday morning and promptly took the bus to Framingham.  Katie had some last minute things to finish up with at work, so I walked to a bar across from the bus station and got a beer and watched some World Cup. It was pretty nice, I'm not going to lie. Katie arrived, and we left immediately for WEBS.

For the non-crafty types, WEBS is a yarn store. But not just any yarn store. It has among the widest selection I've ever seen! In addition to the major brands, they had a lot of smaller labels, spinning and weaving supplies, and a great atmosphere. But what really stands out is the warehouse. Behind the store, there is a medium size warehouse full of yarn. Full of it, all in bags! They provide shopping carts! You can just wander the aisles and rip the bags open when something strikes you. I admit, I was a little overwhelmed by all the choice, but I walked away with a skein of sock yarn.

The next day, we set out for New Jersey. First, we stopped at Down Cellar, where I worked for a year. They recently moved to an excellent location. They have a cute little house just up the street from the old shop. It has a lot more room, and the storage is fantastic. They even offer sewing instruction now! My craft senses were tingling. Tingling I tell you! It was great to see Kathy, Lureen, and Keri again. I miss the store and everyone there a lot. It's sad, but I haven't found that kind of craft community here in New Orleans yet. We spent the night with a friend of mine from grad school and had drinks with the Rutgers Art History crowd. The weather was nice, and it was a good night for beer.

Kilt Hose

They're finished!  These socks were an odyssey, lasting nearly a year. Oh, how I labored. The wrenches are cabled, and of my own design. I designed these socks using these as a template and general sizing guide. There was much finagling and knitter's math involved. I'm thinking of writing it up and submitting it to one of the knitting journals. I'll need better pictures if I'm going to do that, so someone will have to volunteer to model! The Gentleman in Question dislikes having his picture taken. That is his leg, but that's the most you'll ever see of him.

The hose began their life as a flirtatious joke between myself and the Gentleman in Question. He arrived to the Fourth of July fireworks party wearing a Utilikilt. Now, I had seen such a thing before; I know several kilted men.  The gentleman, learning that I was a professional knitter at the time, commissioned a pair of kilt socks, as he was shortly moving to the cold and frozen north and wished to wear his kilt in the chillier weather. Being an engineer, he wanted wrenches instead of the traditional cabled panel.

So I researched. And discovered that no one had ever wanted to knit cabled wrenches before. Thus began a period of experimentation, whereupon I learned how to design a cable pattern. Much math and swatching latter, the socks were begun. There were snafus aplenty. And much anxiety! As previously mentioned, the Gentleman has skinny legs, whereas mine are more...generous.

There were holdups surrounding major life changes. I moved back to New Orleans, which was a production of its own, let me tell you. Then the holidays, plus housing drama. I worked slowly, but steadily. Finally, in March, they were finished! But tragically, they were not- the foot was too short! And so, feet reknit and lengthened, they were completed, and are in the hands of their rightful owner. Just in time for summer.

These socks mark major changes in my life. A new boyfriend, a major move, a career shift (if working in a yarn store and teaching can be considered a career), and all of the attendant drama. I'm still not settled, but with the completion of the socks, I feel that the next chapter is ready to begin.

So what should I make next?

Setback!

Well, the Gentleman in Question came to visit this past weekend. We had a lovely time! There was much eating. I highly recommend Jaques-Imo's, Camellia Grill, and Cafe Freret. The last is where we had Easter Brunch. A tasty, laid back brunch I might add. Crafty plans were hatched, which you'll get to see as they unfold.

But, the setback. The kilt hose are too short in the foot. I will have to unravel and lengthen them. I'm disappointed, because I wanted to send them home with the Gentleman. But, they require more work. I have a job now, so production may be slowed.

Project Updates

Well, the Mystery Project is basically complete. I have some cleanup to do, but then it'll be ready to send out. Overall, I'm pleased with it. There were a few missteps (I sewed a part of it upside down.), but I feel ok about giving it to an actual person. Once its intended receives it, I'll post full pictures and a rundown.

As a part of the mystery project, I learned how to make button holes. This is an exciting development! I also learned how to use the machine to sew on buttons, promising a future in which my buttons don't pop off and run away at the most inopportune moments.

The Nerdy Kilt Hose are trucking along. I seem to have rallied on that project. I attribute this to two things. Thing the first: I was five episodes behind on the latest season on Lost. So last night I did battle with my router and managed, with much swearing and much knitting, to watch three episodes. Since tv is prime knitting time for me, I got a lot done. Thing the second: the Gentleman in Question is visiting this Friday, and I want these to be done in time. The router seems to be behaving itself today, so we'll see how far I get.

The Nerdiest Kilt Hose Ever

The never ending socks. Last year during the fourth of July, I was asked to make the nerdiest kilt hose ever. And that's pretty nerdy, considering kilt hose are by definition geeky. The gentleman in question wanted his kilt socks to have wrenches on them, to reflect his engineering nature.

Have you ever tried to find a cable pattern for wrenches? I have. They don't exist, so I had to make my own. Last August, I bought the yarn and began the process of making kilt socks. I've sort of adapted a pattern, but in all honesty, I'm mostly winging it. I'm doing them two at a time on circular needles so I can be sure they turn out the same.

The project has been fraught. There were a few false starts, and more than a little anxiety. The latest worry eating at me is that they are too tight. They aren't of course. This worry stems from the fact that the gentleman in question has skinny legs, while I have been gifted with the mighty calves. They don't fit me, and so, I am anxious.

Why have they taken so long? I blame it in television. Or the lack thereof. We don't have tv in our house because we don't feel like paying for it, and everything we want to watch can be streamed to the tv through one of the house craptops. This saves us money, and makes us watch less tv. Awesome, right? Except that tv watching was prime knitting time for me. I've never been one to just sit and knit; there was always something else going on as well. So now that I have more of a life, I knit much less. Meaning the socks trudge along, not being finished.

There is also the latest setback. I did some plane knitting earlier this week. I'm planning for these to have a flap heel. Somewhere over New Jersey I made the flap, and when it came time to turn the heel over Virginia, instead of turning, I just made another short row heel entirely. My socks now have two heels, nicely executed, stacked one right on top of another. Needless to say, I need to rip out and try not to be such an idiot.

Lombardi Gras

I first moved to New Orleans in 2002 for school. Have you ever gone to a place and been struck with the feeling that you belonged there? That's what New Orleans felt like to me. But like most college kids, I didn't get all that involved with life outside of college and college bars. Function of the age I guess. In any case, I didn't care in the least about the Saints.

That changed for me after the storm. I moved to New Jersey for graduate school in 2006. It was lonelier than I expected, and I was surprised at how much I missed New Orleans. So even though I wasn't a huge football fan, I bought a six pack of Abita and sat down to watch the Saints play the first game in the dome. And it was amazing. From beginning to end. That's when I became a fan. Saints games were impossible to see in Jersey, so I watched the Giants. I'm not an expert; most football fans would call me a dilettante. But whatever, I watch the games and I enjoy them, so the armchair pundits can go mock somebody else.

Since then, I watched the Giants win the Superbowl. I can state from experience that fans in other places are kind of lackluster in comparison to the Who Dats. The ticker tape parade for the Giants was kind of cool, but not awesome enough to cancel school. And as an aside, after living in New Orleans, parades in other places aren't that interesting. No one throws you anything! In high school when I lived in Baltimore and the Ravens won the Superbowl, there wasn't nearly the level of excitement.

The night of the game, I went down to a neighborhood bar in the Bywater with my roommate and some friends. We sat and drank beer, and I brought my knitting since we joined our friends at the bar 2 hours before kickoff. The game was close, and emotions ran high. In those final moments, when it became clear that we won, the whole city erupted. I've never heard such noise. Cars honking in the streets, spontaneous jazz bands, people shouting, the whole works. We, along with everyone else, left the bar and walked to the French Quarter. Bourbon Street (a place I avoid) had Mardi Gras level crowds. Thing was, everyone was happy. The folk in this photo were hula hooping for joy. There wasn't much shoving, people were dressed up, and everyone was smiling. I was there. People hitchhiked in and brought their babies.

But what of the sock? The sock is a long term project. I began it last summer in New Jersey. It languished in my knitting bag, ignored for more interesting and complicated works. Technically, it's a Harry Potter sock. The yarn is German, Harry Potter branded. So JK Rowling is making money off my knitting. The sock got shoved in my bag in the post game euphoria, and it stayed there for a while. It came with me to the Saints Parade. I stood on Canal street with eight hundred thousand other people and saw Sean Payton fist pump the Vince Lombardi trophy. And the sock was there with me.

So now it's a Saints sock.